Broken Glass
by SpecialAgentZiva
Summary: They say that if you drop glass, you can always repair it, but there will forever be a crack. Yet for Tony and Ziva's friendship, things are not always the same. They're falling into an easy friendship again. And their conversations prove it.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I figured I may as well have little drabbles between our favourite pair throughout the season, discussing their relationship. "Relationship" not meaning "coupleness" because, while it would be nice to see, they have yet to be together and are better off single for the time being. Anyway, I will be starting this post-Faith. If you haven't seen it (7x10) then you really should, it was nice. Very good use of Kangaroo Cry. I should really stop wasting your time rambling.**

**Reviews are almost as loved as my dogs are. :)**

**A quick warning, the rating may change to 'T' at some point depending on how this goes. I tend to write with NCIS-style language, so their type of swearing...**

**I don't own NCIS, you'd know my name if I did, and besides, if I owned NCIS, the following chapters may have occurred… not to mention, we wouldn't have to wait 'til Jan 5th for the next episode!**

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Ziva sat quietly in her apartment, her eyes drooping as she watched the flickering fire in the dusty old fireplace. Christmas wasn't her celebration in any way, yet she enjoyed every aspect of it; many people didn't celebrate with religion these days anyway. Could she not remain Jewish and enjoy the extra warmth and love from her NCIS family over the holidays?

Her phone rang suddenly, disturbing her thoughtful dosing. With a low swear in Hebrew, she grabbed the phone. Who would be calling at this time? Not giving herself a chance to brood on this, she thrust the phone to her ear and said as pleasantly as she could manage, "Ziva David."

"Y'know, most people just say hello," a voice commented from the other end. Her eyes went wide. Tony!

"Tony, Merry Christmas," she replied calmly. "Why are you calling so late? It is nearly midnight."

"Yeah, but I'm bored," he elaborated.

"Should you not be hitting the bars tonight?"

"Most are closed at this hour."

"And what do you expect me to do? Entertain you?" the last words were dripping with sarcasm.

"Ohhh, depends on what you mean by entertain…" he cleared his throat before continuing. "Happy Hanukkah!"

Ziva allowed a quiet sigh to escape her as she repositioned herself on the couch, now kneeling at the side with her elbows on the couch arm. She looked a lot younger this way, perhaps more vulnerable in a position like this, and yet she did not feel an impulse to keep her weapon nearby. "Hanukkah was a while ago, Tony. But all the same, it is Christmas, so you may as well say 'Merry Christmas.' Have you not some family to visit?"

"Very much like you… no. That's why I'm calling you. You're family, aren't you?" he sounded a bit unsure in this statement. _Was she going to stay forever or slip away again?_

"Tony, we are all family, are we not? Well, perhaps not the whole of NCIS but us--the team. And you definitely showed you have a soft side today, so I am sure that you are family," she acknowledged the uncertainty with a smile that he would not see.

"Soft side? What soft side?" he sounded absolutely outraged. _Mission accomplished_, she told herself with another sly smile and a look shining in her eye she could only dream of his own eyes spying.

"The Deloris gift was nice. You did good, even for a senior field agent. You are not often like that, unless of course you're dating another blonde bombshell."

"Okay, so it was nice!" he admitted, still sounding outraged with her. "But you can't say I'm never like that. You're right… I'm nice to my girlfriends. And Gibbs."

"I hope you are not dating Gibbs!" Ziva cried out, her laughter echoing over the phone line. "And that would explain your lack of… compassion towards myself and McGee."

"Hey, I'm perfectly nice to you, Ziva! But I'm obviously not dating you, and the thought of dating McGee is just… ewww." Tony shuddered on his end of the line.

"You are being, how do you say it? Homophobic, Tony. There is nothing wrong with couples like that. Besides, am I '_ewww_,' as you put it, as well?"

"I'm not homophobic! I have nothing against that sort of thing! It's just I don't… fly… that… way," he said and waited for a few seconds of awkward silence before saying, "Anyway, I gotta go for the night Ziva. Have a good Christmas. Or, have a good twenty-five and a half minutes of Christmas, 'cuz that's all that's left. Oh, and Cindy Loo Hoo, I wasn't kidding about taking your present back. I did get you something. Check your… hallway."

And with that, he flicked the phone off, took one last look at her apartment from where he was in the street, and drove off. _Good night, Ziva,_ he thought, _and merry Christmas-Hanukkah._

Ziva cautiously stood up and tip-toed over to open the door. At first she saw nothing, but then a dull wood caught her eye. A boat? But Tony did not craft. Upon closer look, she realized it was flat and held something; a picture.

She picked it up and turned it over carefully in her hands, examining the small image from every angle. Even the bland back that was just visible through the faded glass was nice; though now she noticed it had a bit of writing. Tony's, surprisingly neat, clearly stating: ABBY'S CHRISTMAS PARTY '09.

The words brought a smile to her face and she crept back inside to sit on the couch again, but the frame never left her hands.

And thus she continued to stare at the picture until her clock struck twelve; it was simply a picture of her standing much too close to Tony. His handsome face was laughing as was hers.

Y_ou are family_, she thought happily, _one look at this picture and anybody could tell._

**

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A/N: I hope you don't think the Tony thing was too creepy. xD But then again, Gibbs that to Jenny once, so who knows?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This one is a tag to the newest episode, 7x14 Masquerade. My apologies for not updating. I was actually planning on doing a Jet Lag tag, but there were so many I figured there was no point, even if I did something like their relationship from Nora's point of view. Anyway, I enjoyed the Somalia talk between them. It shows Tony's compassionate side, and that Somalia really did affect Ziva. Good job, writers, actors, and all. I loved that episode. What did you think?**

**However, the developement of the relationship between Gibbs and the stalkerish lawyer was a bit strange. Oh well, we'll see what happens now. (Why is she following Gibbs?)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS, but I do own my fingers, one of which hurts because I just got a giant sliver. Oww. C: **

_"Do you ever talk about it?"_

_She avoids the question. What does he expect? It's Ziva, his super ninja. But still, his heart aches at the thought of the months without her. In the time he thought she was dead, hundreds of different forms of torture, or interrogation, could have occurred. He barely wanted to contemplate the number of scars she had, but whenever her shirt would ride up a little too high he would anyway and cringe._

_But he can see the look in her eyes. Behind the calm demeanour there will always be something, there will always be things to remind her of the man that… hurt her. He couldn't bring himself to use any other word, it brought both heartbreaking sadness and fury to him at once. He sighed and focused his attention back on the contents of the warehouse, but his thoughts still raced._

He sits in his home, rocking back and forth slowly and staring at the clock. A movie is blaring in the background and his mind is in a different place, puzzling over her. Ziva, he can't stand her but he can't stand to be away from her at the same time. Her defences, her ability to manipulate him, that look in her eyes… it all drives him crazy, but he won't admit it. Hell, he won't even admit to being concerned, though even a total stranger could pick up on it. Nora. The name brought a smile to his lips, made him think of her questions.

No, rule twelve was made to be… not broken.

Finally, his mind set, he reached for the cellphone sitting by his side and flipped it open. Unsteady fingers dialled her number and he waited. One ring… Two rings… God, would she ever pick up? Three rings… Silence. "Ziva?" he questioned.

"Tony," she confirmed with a small sigh he barely heard but it brought the ghost of a smile to his lips. "Are you asking to continue our conversation?"

"I… Ziva, well, you do know that I could have died for you, and I'd do that, but you need to know that… we need to know." His voice was halting, bringing surprise to her because he was almost never like this. So compassionate, so caring… for her.

"Look, Tony, just count the scars, okay!" She was getting angry, and before he could speak, she flipped the phone shut and curled up on her couch, rocking back and forth.

_Is that what you want? _he wondered._ Zee-vah, you asked for it._

It took less time than he'd expected - then again, he'd been watching Ziva's driving carefully to see exactly how she avoided so much traffic - for him to stumble up to her apartment. His hands in his pockets, he debates. Does he knock? Open by force?

He didn't need to choose. She was there, Ziva, looking at him with _those _eyes, the ones of a tortured and battered woman, the ones that let him see into her and read her like a book. She's not like this. "Oh, Ziva," he whispers, "I'm sorry."

She puts on a fake smile and leads him inside, but he doesn't pay attention to the apartment, just her. She sighs and sits down, inviting him to join her. "Tony, why are you here?"

"You said _count the scars, _so I figured I'd take you up on that offer!" there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes and her lips quirked upwards, if only a little bit. "Come on, lay down, I wanna see your back first."

"No, not a chance!" anger flashes in her eyes and she leaps off the couch.

He puts his hands on her shoulders and slowly forces her down onto the seat again. She looks up at him like a child waiting to be punished and lectured, hanging on to his every word. "Zee, you said I could. And it's not like I haven't seen you… well, you know…"

She grins at how awkward he is discussing their undercover mission but says nothing. "Come on, lay down and turn over."

He's surprised when she does what he says, turning over obediently and stretching her legs to the end of the couch. He places his knees carefully on either side of her and whispers, "Zee, I'm gonna lift your shirt up" before warm hands do the job. He almost gasps at the scars.

"God, Ziva, did you never tell anyone? I mean, look at this!" She turns her head to face him, and he knows her defences are down just a little bit, but still she says nothing. He sighs and drops her shirt back down, sure that he doesn't want to see the other scars that he expects to be criss-crossing her arms and legs.

Slowly, he slid his body to the back of the couch and lay sideways, turning her with him. She doesn't move out of his arms and he's surprised. At least he's alive. And then he realizes - she's fallen asleep.

"Sleep well, Zee-vah," he whispers and pulls her tighter to him.


End file.
